


Emo Is Short For Emotional

by Diglossia



Category: Panik
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-24
Updated: 2010-01-24
Packaged: 2017-10-06 15:39:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diglossia/pseuds/Diglossia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>More crack. Linke is sensitive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Emo Is Short For Emotional

"_flecto, flectere, flexi, flexum,_" Linke recited loudly, trying desperately to cover the sounds of fucking.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh, oh, oh, oh!" David all but chanted.

"_sterno, sternere, stravi, stratum_," Linke continued, hoping that the more complicated –vi conjugations of the perfect would keep his virginal mind from overhearing. His bandmates were so _crude_. Bad enough they had messed with his shower bucket and rearranged all of his soaps and lotions. Such disrespect for his belongings. David still owed him shampoo though why he had used Linke's at all was beyond him. They had completely different hair types. At least T:mo had remembered to take his pubes out of the drain this time. Goodness, what was wrong with those two?

Squeak, squeak, squeak went David's bed.

Fuck, fuck, fuck went T:mo and David.

Ew, ew, ew went Linke.

"Oh God, do that again! Yes, yes!" someone shouted.

Linke's head whipped up. That was _Jan_. Linke's eyes widened at the implications and he smacked his forehead before diving under his lavender-scented pillows and blankets.

"Ugh, harder, T:mo, harder! Fuck me like you mean it!"

"_vomo, vomere, vomui, vomitum!_" Linke screamed.

The sounds stopped. 

"Vomitum?" he heard T:mo ask, "Doesn't that mean vomit?"

Damn thin walls. Maybe he should replaster them, get some drywall. He could even paint them a color he liked, like chartreuse. Yes, that's what he'd do next time he went to the store.

"Yo, Linke!" T:mo called.

Linke groaned and pulled his pillow over his head, even though he knew sound traveled faster through solid matter than gas. 

"Linke?" T:mo wheedled, "Oh, Linke, we know you're listening…"

"Come join us," David cooed.

"It'll be _so_ much fun," Jan added, giggling, "You're so much bigger than T:mo. You know you want to stick your cock up my tight little ass-"

"Shut the fuck up! I do not want anything to do with your arse, Jan Werner!" Linke yelled.

"You sure you don't want to come over here?" David said, laughing.

"No!"

"But Franky's over here…" David mewed.

That got Linke's attention. He was halfway out of his bed before he thought about it.

"No, he's not!"

"Yes, I am. Oh, Linke come join us…we miss you…" Franky wheedled.

"I know that's not Franky! T:mo, leave me the fuck alone!"

The evil threesome laughed. Linke huddled on his bed, his hands and his pillow over his ears. His face was burning crimson and he was not happy that David, T:mo, and Jan knew his not-so-secret crush on the new singer. God, he hated their management for putting them in this fucking cramped shit-excuse for a house. 

Wait. If Franky wasn't with them, where the hell _was_ Franky?

Linke swallowed hard. He grabbed his knitting needles and started to work on the scarf he had been making. It had started out as a blanket but Linke had realized a scarf was a much better idea after the second or third row. Maybe he could give it to Jan for Christmas-

"Ah, ah, ah! David, T:mo, David!" 

-or maybe he could tie it around the little DJ's loud-ass mouth so that Linke would not have to hear any sound again. Fuck them. Fuck them all.

"Linke? Oh, _Linke_?"

Linke growled and hunkered down over his scarf. They could try to disturb him now. Oh, they could try. Nothing could disturb Linke's focus once he concent-

Squeak, squeak, squeak. 

"Yes, yes, yes!" Jan howled as the floor reverberated, sending Linke the exact physical feeling of Jan getting screwed.

"Fuck, you gots a motherfucking good, motherfucking tight asshole, Jan, damn boi. I mean, _daymn_."

"T:mo! You're supposed to be paying attention to me!" David whined.

"You gotsta help, Davii. I can'ts be fucking both of yous w'out some _assistance_," T:mo said, implying things that Linke really didn't want to think about.

Linke threw his knitting at the wall.

"Shut the fuck up!" he screamed again.

"No!" the three chorused back.

Linke swore. Then he grabbed his secret box out from underneath his bed and lovingly laid the contents across his sheets. Pressed flowers in one corner, shells and pieces of coral on another, the special edged scissors by his knee. A loopy grin spread over Linke's face. Scrapbooking would keep his mind off of _anything_.

He set about cutting out snow angels, humming happily to himself. That rainbow unicorn sticker would be perfect with the polka dot background.

"There's nothing like scrapbooking for calming the unquiet mind," Linke quoted from his favorite book, A Young Woman's Guide to the Fine Art of Scrapbooking, "When perfecting one's art, one learns a great deal about oneself…"

Linke stared down at his angel, intent on perfecting his art- and cut her head off when a sumptuous moan floated through the paper-thin wall.

"Agh! That's it!" he screamed, throwing the ruined angel to the floor and swinging the door open with as much force as he could muster, "There's no respect in this house! No fucking respect!"

Linke stormed out into the hallway, passing a completely blissed-out Juri- probably high on cannabis again, Linke thought. Those boys needed to learn that _he_, Linke, had the right to live in a house without hearing every fucking thing they did. Linke was always at his best behavior with them, always. He never bothered them. He never turned his stereo on too high or used their hairbrushes. He never touched any of their stuff, never ever, and yet they still persisted with their childish activities. Just because he actually had feelings and cared about their welfares and their mental security did not mean that they could tramp all over his!

He shoved David's door open and glared at the three debauched men tangled around each other.

"You three have no respect!" Linke screamed as he tried not to look at their nakedness, "After all I've done, you can't even respect me enough to ask if I want to hear you dicks having sexual, sexual intercourse!"

"Dude, like, chill the fuck out," Jan said, smirking as David attacked the side of his neck, sucking and licking in a most disturbing way.

"Yeah, man, we were just having fun," T:mo said, threading a hand around Jan's waist.

Linke glared down at him.

"I was _reading_," he said icily.

"If you really need quiet, we will keep it down," David said, his voice serious and his face stoic, "We did not mean to hurt your feelings, Chris. We're sorry."

"Yeah, sorry, Chris," Jan added.

"Ditto," T:mo said.

Linke glowered at them for a second, his long arms folded against his chest.

"Alright," he said, "Apology accepted but only if you mean it."

"We mean it," David said solemnly.

"You really mean it? Really really?" Linke asked.

"Really really," David replied.

He truly did look sorry, Linke decided.

"Then I am sorry I barged in on you guys. I would never do that under normal circumstances. I was very angry and lost control of myself."

"Okay," David said.

Linke nodded and walked through the door. He heard a sigh of relief as he closed it. 

Linke opened it again and popped his head through. David was now straddling Jan and T:mo was nipping at David's side. 

Linke blushed.

"Yes, Chris?" David sighed.

"I really am sorry-"

"Thank you," David said sweetly, "Shut the door behind you, would you?"

"Of course," Linke said.

Three seconds later he popped his head back in.

"What the fuck do you want now?" T:mo snarled.

"I just wanted to apologize again for using such harsh words earlier-"

"Fine. Apology accepted. Go away!"

Linke smiled, embarrassed, and closed the door behind him. At least David had manners even if he did engage in such vile mannerisms with other men. 

Linke walked down the hall back to his room, ignoring Juri sitting in the middle of it. Linke just stepped right over him, thinking about what he should do the rest of the day. Maybe he could finish that model airplane he had been working on the other day or his white tiger sculpture…


End file.
